Secrets of Agents
Topic: agents
This is far and away the most popular question I get, mostly through back channels, as if the subject matter were a narcotic: How do I score an agent? Three other questions I get plenty: 1. Can you, Keith, score me an agent? 2. Do I really need an agent? 3. Aren’t all agents the spawn of Satan? I’ll try to answer these today.
Late last century, when I wrote my first screenplay, an actor friend introduced me to a literary agent at his agency. The guy was the portrait of slick, and anything he said—based on the way he said it, his body language, tone, and eye contact (or lack thereof) made you assume he was lying. If you were at a restaurant and he asked you to pass the salt, you’d think, “This man wants the pepper.” Mr. Slick proved the exception. The seven I subsequently met were bright, highly-educated, well-spoken, enjoyed the chess game that is the bureaucracy and politics of the entertainment, and were good players. Certainly there is a faction in the entertainment business comprised, literally, of gangsters, and Mr. Slick might be the one to represent should you aspire to be doing business there.
Why do you need an agent? Your screenplay will be messengered to thirty producers, your manuscript to upwards of ten editors. And the people will read it, quickly, motivated as much by your agent’s recommendation by the fear that their competitor will beat them to it. Screenplay deals within 24 hours are common. If you can line up dozens of buyers and have them reading your manuscript instantly, then construct elaborate deals, then sell the film rights, then fight your own battles when problems arise, you do not need an agent.
What’s the secret to getting one? Simple: Have something to sell. As it happens, historically, pirates had agents. They'd anchor their booty-laden brigs in Carolina or Florida and the agents would come aboard, take inventory, and say something like, “Okay Captain, I can sell the gold but not the silk—it’s out this year—or the stale breadfruit.” If you have a marketable commodity, you’re in business. Agents who are friends or colleagues of people you already know are easiest to reach. Good places to get noticed: film festivals and websites like atomfilms.com, and magazines and sites like Zoetrope that run short stories. Also there are lists of agents looking for new clients, on the Writers Guild of America website for instance. Finally, if you buy 350 copies of my book, an agent will be calling you.
How Getting Hepatitis Can Help Your Writing
Topic: research
I’d worked for five or six years as a screenwriter before deciding to write a book. Knowing I didn’t know enough, I enrolled in Stanford University’s Continuing Studies Fiction Program in the Fall of 2002. The first semester was great. In December I came down with a 103-degree fever. Not all that bad though. But after six days I still had it. So I went to the MD for a WTF. Turned out I’d contracted hepatitis A. How? Bad burrito. The result?
“You’ll have to spend six to eight weeks in bed,” said the doctor.
Two of my favorite things in life are sleeping in and reading. How often do you get to spend two solid months doing nothing but? I was delighted. My family and both of my friends took it as delirium. The only significant downside was I could keep only toast down for the first month or so, and suffered haunting, recurring dreams of cheeseburgers. Also, I wouldn’t be able to return to Stanford.
I wanted to continue with the pirate story I’d begun though. While in bed, I read about 50 maritime books, mostly non-fiction. Ships are complicated, and I didn’t know my elbow from my poop deck. Several chapters of my novel
Pirates of Pensacola involve a pitched cannon battle between a superyacht and a clipper sailed by a bunch of pirates who hide in plain sight in the Caribbean posing as a “troope o’ pyrat reenactors.” To write it properly, I needed to know how a clipper is rigged and sailed, and about most every part, because about most every part is blown sky-high at some point. If I didn’t have that time in bed, I don’t know when I could possibly have done all the research.
Would I recommend hep A to all aspiring novelists? Absolutely. Just follow doctors’ orders very closely or you could wind up getting published by Davy Jones.
An Actual Pirate Compelled Me Write To Write My Novel
Topic: research
I grew up in a small coastal town in Connecticut that for me was whatever the opposite of fun is. However, as anyone who’s looked out at it knows, however, the ocean offers boundless possibilities. There was a somewhat famous pirate in the early 19th Century named William Thompson. He spelled Thomson the wrong way (with a P), but pirates weren’t known for their literacy. He disappeared in around 1825, but being eight, you can look out to sea and believe there’s a pretty good chance your pirate ancestor’s mast might appear on the horizon one morning, or that his proxy might show up and say, “Kid, we need you to go on an adventure to get gold.”
This is basically the premise of my book, “Pirates of Pensacola.” A landlubbing accountant’s life is anything but exciting until his estranged pirate father shows up after twenty-some years in jail and says, “Let’s hit the sea, lad, there’s treasure to be got.”
Incidentally, a common misnomer about pirates is they buried treasure. Think about it. You swing through cannon fire and onto an enemy deck full of dark smoke with rapiers whining all about. You somehow manage to persevere and get away with a bunch of gold. Why in the hell would you drop anchor at some island and stick it in a hole? William Thompson did bury treasure though.
Click here for details of Capt. Thompson’s treasure
P.S. This, by the way, is Capt. Thompson:
